


mess is mine

by breathplayed



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathplayed/pseuds/breathplayed
Summary: Stan's frustrated and Richie's just plain devoted. Or where Stan's had a rough day and Richie does all he can to make it better.





	mess is mine

**Author's Note:**

> written for the itsecretadmirers on tumblr. honestly i had wanted to do so much more but like you see that this is literally pwp and this long already right? yeah. anyways, to my giftee, i hope you like it! i tried very hard to do something fluffy and cute but you said you were okay with porn so..... here it is.
> 
> but it is LITERALLY JUST PORN. NO PLOT. JUST PORN. IT'S FILTHY NASTY PORN BETWEEN BOYS WHO LOVE EACH OTHER. please read the tags. the only warning i'll give is that they have sex without a condom (it's consensual!)

 When Richie heard the door open and slam shut, he already knew something was wrong. Stan was not a door slammer, hated whenever Richie accidentally let it go too hard, said that it rattled his nerves. He slowly closed his laptop shut and shuffled off of bed, dressed in only loose sweats. Wednesdays were his off days, he spent most of time making playlists for his shift and going over gossip in case it ever comes up in a segment. While Richie only had his shitty shifts at the radio station, Stan worked two jobs. One as a junior accountant at a firm that won’t give him proper hours yet because they’re a bunch of pretentious assholes. So he picked up the slack with a small coffeeshop gig as well.

 

Stan quite liked the accounting. The coffeeshop? Not so much. Richie was used to hearing horror stories from the crazy customers Stan encountered at his shift, his poor boyfriend getting so worked up, Richie usually stopped his rants with kisses to distract him. The upside was that now Stan knew how to make a mean latte. The downside was his steadily rising blood pressure. Richie couldn’t wait for the day Stan got promoted so he didn’t have to deal with the bullshit anymore.

 

Richie stepped into the living room, watching as Stan furiously undid his apron and tossed aside his hat without his usual care for order. From that alone, he figured it had been a particularly bad day. “Babe?” he asked cautiously, approaching him like he would a spooked animal. When Stan got into these moods of his, it really could go one of two ways. Either he needed to brood alone, forcing Richie out of the apartment while he deep cleaned the entire apartment or he craved comfort, sitting in Richie’s lap while they watched one of Stan’s favorite shitty romcoms.

 

Stan turned to him, cheeks ruddy with anger, eyes still blazing. “I fucking hate people,” Stan spat out viciously. “I fucking hate coffee-drinkers!”

 

“Aw babe,” Richie made a sympathetic noise, trying his best not to comment on how cute Stan looked frazzled. Curls all messy, shirt collar undone. Richie quite liked a messy Stan. Still, he bit his tongue. Even he knew when to keep quiet. “You wanna talk about it?”

 

Stan stared at him for a tense second. Richie was half afraid he’d somehow managed to read his mind and was going to tear a new one into him. Instead, he walked towards the couch, falling onto it face-first and letting out one agonized scream into the cushion.

 

Seeing as how Stan hadn’t demanded for him to leave just yet, Richie decided it was safe to approach, standing over where Stan’s feet were dangling from the couch. “So you don’t wanna talk about it,” he concluded.

 

Stan lifted his face from the cushion, eyes narrowed in a glare. Now that Richie was taking a closer look, he saw that they were red-rimmed. It hurt to think that Stan had gotten worked up enough to cry - probably tears of frustration but still. Richie only liked to see Stan cry in bed.  “Alright babe, should we burn Peets down? We can buy lighter fluid for cheap.”

 

“If we burn Peets down we can’t afford our apartment,” Stan replied miserably.

 

Ah yes, between the two of them Stanley was the one that made the bacon. Even though he was Jewish - it was one of Richie’s favorite jokes. Richie bent down to place a sloppy kiss on Stan’s forehead. “My hero.” Relief washed over him when Stan sighed and accepted it instead of pushing him away. Dating Stan meant giving him space when he needed and Richie was happy to do it, but honestly? He rather just be with him and fix the mess with his own two hands.

 

“Come on babe, get up and I’ll pet you like the cat we’re not allowed to have.” Stan grumbled at that comparison but acquiesced, sitting up properly to make room for Richie. He crawled into Richie’s lap as soon as he sat down, huffing and puffing all the way, putting his head on Richie’s chest petulantly. Richie immediately began to pet his corkscrew curls, delighting in their softness. “Good kitty, nice kitty.”

 

“If you call me kitty one more time I’ll eviscerate you,” Stan mumbled, lips moving against Richie’s bare skin. The contact made Richie shiver, the tiny pricks of interested arousal seeping into him. That didn’t surprise him. Stan could literally verbally tear him apart and he’d still get a boner.  Stan could do anything, and he’d get a boner. He shifted a little, trying to imagine Stan cutting him open for real, covered in blood. Nope, didn’t work, the idea of Stan covered in blood was still hot. Yowza.

 

“Yowza,” he muttered, tugging at one of Stan’s curls. Stan sighed again, turning his head so his cheek was resting on Richie’s chest. “You wanna sleep Stanny? I’ll princess carry you to bed.”

 

“Too worked up to sleep,” Stan mumbled back.

 

“Movie?” Richie tried again. “I think _Sleepless in Seattle_ is playing on Lifetime but we can - “

 

Stan looked up at him, clearly conflicted. “I’m only going to say this once,” he stated stiffly. “And if you make it a joke I’ll throw you out in the street.”

 

Richie blinked. “Okay?”

 

“I want you to fuck me.” Stan’s cheeks went bright pink at the admission, he wasn’t even looking at Richie, biting his lip in embarrassment. Richie’s arousal came flooding back in an instant.

 

“Really?” Richie squeaked. It wasn’t uncommon for either of them to fuck their stress out, especially on days when they were both frustrated by their slow progress in their respective fields. Still, Stan was angry today, and angry Stan didn’t usually want sex and Richie was smart enough not to push it. He liked having his dick attached to his body, thanks. “Like...now? Baby, are you sure?”

 

“Are you really asking that?” Stan asked flatly. “I can feel your boner.”

 

“Oh my god Stan,” Richie pitched his voice high to make him sound like that annoying high school girl from Mean Girls. The one with the tits. Stan hated this voice. “You can’t just go around talking about peoples’ boners!”

 

Stan lifted himself off and for a moment, Richie was sure he just ruined his chances of getting laid. But no - Stan simply stripped in front of him, methodical and precise and not sexy at all, but seeing his bare skin on display had Richie’s cock twitching with excitement. “I’m taking a shower,” Stan said calmly. “Need to get the coffee smell out. Pick up my clothes and get ready.”

 

“Yessir,” Richie wheezed, eyes focused on Stan’s ass and long lean legs as he walked away, tempted to chase after him and slam him into the wall. But no, Stan had the shitty day. Stan got to call the shots… at least for now.

 

Richie whistled a jaunty tune as he picked Stan’s clothes up. Nothing like the promise of sex to get him in a good mood.

 

He figured Stan wasn’t going to take too long in the shower so Richie hit shuffle on a random sexy playlist, chucking his sweats off and grabbing lube from his drawer. They usually had sex in Richie’s bed so that afterwards they could go to Stan’s to sleep. Stan had bought about five sets of sheets for him so Richie could change them regularly without constantly washing the same ones. Still, he tried to clean up a little for Stan, moving some clothes into the closet and laying a towel on the bed. Who ever said he wasn’t a considerate boyfriend?

 

He snickered to himself when “Bump n’ Grind” came on, R. Kelly’s voice drifting from his speakers. “My mind’s telling me noooooo, but my body’s, my body’s telling me yeeeeees,” he sang out loudly.

 

“Really?” Stan’s voice drifted from the door. Richie looked over his shoulder to see that Stan’s curls were still dripping with only a towel wrapped around his waist. More importantly though, his face was way more relaxed than it had been fifteen minutes ago and Richie eagerly skipped to him, wrapping his arms around Stan’s waist and lifting him up, ignoring Stan’s protesting squawk to kiss him square on the mouth.

 

“I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and griiiind~” Richie murmured against Stan’s lips. Stan scoffed but he wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck and kissed him back. Richie tugged at the towel, letting it drop to the floor, so he could freely cup Stan’s ass.

 

“You smell good,” Richie swiped his tongue over Stan’s bottom lip, biting down very gently. “Bet you taste just as good, yeah Stan?” He squeezed Stan’s ass for emphasis, loving the little squeak Stan let out. Richie felt his cock stiffening inside his boxers and rocked his hips forward against Stan’s, moaning against his mouth.

 

Stan froze in his hold as soon as Richie dug his fingers into his skin, spreading one of his cheeks wide. “Wait,” he panted, breaking the kiss, looking up at Richie imploringly. “Stop. Put me down.”

 

Richie blinked but did as he asked, looking over at Stan with confusion. Had Stan changed his mind? Richie didn’t think so, he could see that Stan’s dick was already half hard and Richie was ready to take his boyfriend to Pound Town whenever he wanted, throbbing in his boxers. “All good, babe?”

 

“Yes I’m fine I just - “ Stan bit his lip before he straightened his shoulders determinedly. “Take off your boxers and lie down,” he ordered, crossing his arms, looking a little uncertain. Really, he looked super cute like that. Richie wanted to take a picture.

 

Richie arched a brow, dipping his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “Yeah babe? That’s how you wanna play?”

 

Usually Stan was content to be Richie’s good boy, crying as Richie fucked him with his fingers, tongue, cock, bringing him to the edge over and over. Yeah, he tended to snap at him whenever Richie teased too much but eventually succumbed to his whims with sweet moans and shuddering thighs. Because that’s what Stan liked - for Richie to wreck him. And Richie? Liked whatever Stan liked.

 

Though if he was being honest, wrecking Stan was one of his favorite past times and he was so damn lucky that it was Stan’s as well.

 

But Richie was always up for changing it up in the bedroom. He’d written out a kink list with Beverly once and she’d shrieked at all the shit he was willing to try. So if Stan wanted to be in charge, Richie was totally down for it.

 

“You got it Stan the Man, little Jew with the plan,” Richie leered at him, shoving his boxers down, cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He let the stupid alpha male part of his ego preen at the way Stan stared at his dick, pupils dilated before laying on bed, crossing his arms behind his head. “Is this how you want me?”

 

Stan rolled his eyes, cheeks pink. “Do you ever shut up?” he asked, walking over and sitting in between Richie’s spread thighs. He wrapped a hand around Richie’s cock and Richie hissed, arching his hips up into the contact. Stan smiled smugly, sliding his hand to the base and ducking his head down. “You showered today didn’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Richie replied quickly though he genuinely would have said anything to get Stan’s mouth on his dick. Stan shot him an unamused look but still licked the head of his cock lightly, making Richie hiss again. Stan would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed sucking dick, and Richie knew it. Usually, Richie kept a tight grip on Stan’s curls as he fucked his mouth shallowly, telling Stan how good he was as Stan looked up at him with teary eyes and pink cheeks, looking completely and utterly blissed out as Richie’s dick filled his mouth. But this, Stan staring at him coyly as he slowly slid his tongue over the head of his dick, pressing it flat against the slit, lapping up the precum, was good too. Really good.

 

“You want more Richie?” Stan asked, voice dripping in faux sweetness. It would be so easy to turn the tables and get Stan on his back while Richie pumped into his mouth. But Stan wanted it this way and even though it was torture, Richie was okay with it.

 

“Yeah,” he croaked out, eyes fluttering shut when Stan finally opened his mouth and slid it over Richie properly. He swore at the wet heat around the tip of his cock, fingers digging into the sheets to resist thrusting up into it. Stan hummed around him, like he was saying “good job, Trashmouth” and then started to suck. Slowly. Painfully, slowly.

 

Richie swore again at the delicious suction, bucking his hips up involuntarily. Stan smacked at his hipbone in disapproval and Richie grumbled as he forced himself to stay still. Stan bobbed his head down to take as much of Richie’s cock as he could, sucked hard, and slid his mouth back up again. He repeated the motion several times. It was equal parts hot and horrifying.

 

Richie’s stomach muscles strained in his effort to hold himself back from moving his hips to speed Stan’s leisurely pace along. He lifted his head from the pillows as much as he could without straining his neck to watch Stan’s pretty lips suck him down, a sight that always got his engines revving without fail.

 

It was so tempting to just sit up fully, grab Stan’s hair and force him further down, choke him properly with his cock because that’s what they both liked. So tempting, but he had to resist because this was Stan’s show now and “Torture Richie” was evidently the main event.

 

“Oh god, babe please,” he groaned when Stan pulled off him entirely, back to swirling his tongue around the head while he slowly pumped him with one hand. It felt good, it felt really good, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Wasn’t nearly rough or hard or fast enough. “You’re killing me, Stan,” he whined, flopping his head back onto the pillow.

 

He heard Stan laugh, his mouth off him again, slowly jacking Richie off, Stan’s spit making the movements smooth. “What’s wrong Rich? You dish it out all the time but you can’t take it?”

 

Richie lifted his head again to glare at Stan’s smug expression. “I can take it,” he replied petulantly, his dick twitching in Stan’s hold. He groaned as Stan leaned down to lick along his entire length, down to the base, then further to mouth at his balls.

 

“Can you?” Stan asked, sucking very lightly at Richie’s balls, making his dick twitch even more, precum leaking at the top. Rarely did Stan ever tease like this, so Richie had almost forgotten how good he was at it. A rookie mistake.

 

Well, Richie couldn’t use his dick against him but that wasn’t the only weapon he had in his arsenal. His goddamn mouth. “Yeah,” he choked out. “I can take it. But I like it better when you’re taking my cock like the good boy you are.”

 

Stan had lifted his head up from Richie’s balls, prepared to resign Richie to more of his tortuous blowjob, when Richie’s words stopped him in his tracks. “Oh? Is that so?” Stan sounded calm but Richie knew him well enough to hear the slight tremble in his voice and it made him grin.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed pretending to be all beat up about it. “My perfect baby boy with his perfect tight ass that always opens up for my dick perfectly.”

 

There was the sound of Stan shuffling around, making Richie look up curiously. He grinned wolfishly when he saw that Stan had the lube in his hands, cheeks very pink, clearly affected by Richie’s words.

 

He eagerly moved into a sitting position, ready to move Stan into his lap. “Don’t look so happy, Trashmouth,” Stan sniffed as he settled across from him, spreading his legs. “This isn’t for you.”

 

Well of course it wasn’t for him, Stan was the one getting fucked not the other way around. But as Stan dribbled lube over his own fingers, warming it up, spreading his legs more so that his hole was exposed, Richie suddenly understood.

 

Oh, now this was too cruel. Richie was struck absolutely speechless as Stan slowly circled his rim in front of him, rubbing the lube all over the puckered skin. Stan made eye contact, gaze full of hot desire and bit his lip purposefully as he slowly spread his hole with two fingers, giving Richie a glimpse of the pink flesh inside.

 

Richie swallowed hard. This was too sexy, too lewd, he didn’t have any words. They were stuck in his throat, mouth frozen shut as Stan continued to touch himself, his dick flushed and hard against his stomach. He watched in anticipation as Stan tapped his hole with his finger, teasing himself with just the tip.

 

“Fuck,” he finally gasped out in awe as Stan slid the first finger into his hole. Stan let out a quiet little keen, sliding it almost all the way in, his rim stretching around it. “Ohh, fuck Stan you are so hot,” Richie groaned, letting a hand drift down to squeeze his dick. He was so hard it was painful and the erotic sight of Stan fingering himself was only making him harder.

 

Stan fucked himself slowly with the first finger, staring at Richie with wide eyes, his lips turning red from how he bit them. “Good?” he asked breathily, his voice hitching. Richie nodded furiously, glasses almost flying off his nose. “Good.” Stan closed his eyes as he eased in another finger, letting out a quiet little moan, Richie letting out a louder one to match.

 

He started to make his way towards Stan, to rub his hands on his trembling thighs, to pinch his nipples, to do anything because it had been far too long since Richie touched him. But as soon as his fingers grazed his heated skin, Stan’s eyes snapped open. “No,” he said, pinning Richie with an intense glare. “No touching.”

 

Richie swallowed hard before backing away again. This was some new kind of torture. As he watched Stan push his fingers deeper into himself, he decided that this was definitely worse than the blowjob. Stan was right in front of him, the perfect picture of sin, and yet Richie couldn’t touch him. Stan was starting to sweat, a light sheen on his golden skin, his cheeks flushing in that pretty way whenever he was aroused.

 

But Richie’s focus was between Stan’s lovely legs, his fingers twisting into himself over and over, clumsy and unpracticed movements as Richie usually took care of the fingering and the angle, while great for Richie to have full access of the show, wasn’t really helping him much. His delicate features were twisted in pleasure but his brow was also furrowed, like he was frustrated.

 

Richie couldn’t stay quiet when Stan pushed the third finger into him. “Baby let me touch you,” Richie begged. His fingers were longer and thicker than Stan’s, was always able to reach his prostate and rub at it until Stan was moaning loudly. Right now, Stan was fucking three of his own fingers inside him, his hole adequately filled, but he was only gasping quietly. Nothing like the way Richie made him scream. Richie so wanted to hear him scream. “Baby, please - “

 

“No,” Stan whimpered, pulling his fingers out. Richie whined at the sight of his swollen hole, twitching at the sudden emptiness. Richie wanted to fill it right up, with his fingers, his cock, anything. “You watch,” Stan ordered, firm despite how his voice was shaking. “You watch until I say otherwise.”

 

Richie let out a whine. He couldn’t fucking look away even if he wanted to. Richie gawked, frozen with lust and frustration, as Stan drizzled more lube on his fingers and slipped one, two, three, and four fingers back inside him. “Oh fuck,” Stan cried out, throwing his head back. He pushed them in as far as they would go. “It’s n-not,” he choked out, biting his lip and fingering himself at an almost desperate pace.

 

“What baby?” Richie croaked out. God, Stan looked so frustrated, Richie wanted to push him down and do all the work for him. He needed to feel Stan stretch over his fingers. “It’s not what?”

 

Stan shook his head furiously at him, curls bouncing with the movement. But Richie didn’t need Stan to answer, he knew Stan’s body all too well, identified the problem much too quickly.

 

“It’s not enough is it?” Stan let out a pathetic whimper. “You can’t make yourself feel good, is that it?” This was the perfect opportunity to be a tease but Richie couldn’t keep his words light, they came out as a growl, his voice rough with desire. “Just let me touch you baby, I’ll fuck you so good, you don’t have to do a thing.”

 

Stan’s eyes with wet, his mouth open as he let out breathy gasps, still rocking into himself. Richie couldn’t resist any longer and started to shuffle towards him. Stan didn’t say anything this time, just kept his eyes on Richie until Richie was close enough to be able to grab Stan’s wrist and stop him if he wanted.

 

He drank in the sight in front of him, basking in the glory of Stan fucking himself with his fingers, before he started talking again. “Don’t you miss my fingers?” he asked in a low voice. Stan shuddered. “Stan, baby, you know I always treat you right, just let me fuck you. However you want - I’ll finger you until you’re nice and loose for me, then give it to you hard, tear that pretty ass apart, make you scream - “

 

Stan cried out, his dick twitching madly against his stomach. Richie wanted to grab him, feel it pulse in his hand. His own dick was throbbing painfully, gone far too long without any attention. “I wanna fuck you,” he groaned honestly, not playing any games by saying this. “I wanna fuck you so bad - “

 

Stan’s thighs were shaking badly, a combination of lying back with his legs spread plus the four fingers currently shoved in his ass. Richie watched in amazement as Stan slowly pulled them out, his hole gaping and wide open. He needed to touch him, get his mouth on him, wring out every last pretty moan out of him -

 

“Lay back down,” Stan gasped out between panting breaths, moving into a sitting position, wiping his lubed fingers on his thigh. “Rich - lay back down - “

 

“Okay, okay,” Richie immediately did as he asked, not taking his eyes off Stan for a minute. Stan grabbed the lube again, crawling over Richie’s body until he was on top of him. Stan kissed Richie feverishly, grinding down against his cock. Richie groaned loudly into the kiss, his hands coming up to grab Stan’s ass, squeezing the soft flesh. Finally. He tugged Stan closer, rubbing his dick insistently against him, spreading Stan’s cheeks and pressing the pad of his thumb against his swollen hole.

 

Stan pulled away, his eyes wild, his mouth swollen and red. He looked like a mess already and Richie just wanted to wreck him even more. “You’re so pretty,” he moaned. “So pretty for me, baby.”

 

Stan kissed him again, a quick one, soft and sweet. His hands carded through Richie’s curls, tugging lightly, making Richie groan. “Richie…” he moaned sweetly as he pulled away, panting lightly. Richie waited in anticipation for whatever Stan was going to say next, what dirty words he’d use to ask Richie to fuck him. But Stan surprised him him with his unexpected words: “No touching.”

 

Richie was floored. He couldn’t believe this - Stan was still keeping this up? He had already gone through that blowjob and Stan’s fingering performance. Any more and he would really explode. Boom, dick gone, blue ball explosion. “But Stan - “

 

Stan shook his head, sliding backwards until he was straddling Richie’s hips, dangerously close to his cock. Richie watched as Stan drizzled lube all over his aching cock, hissing at the cold liquid but letting out a shaky moan when Stan started jacking him.

 

“Baby - condom - “ he groaned out when Stan lifted his hips, grabbing Richie’s cock and lining him up against his hole. Stan cocked his head at him, looking so pretty that it was genuinely unreal.

 

“No condom,” Stan replied slyly. “I want it to be messy.”

 

Shit, that was the hottest thing Stan could’ve said to him. Before he could counter with anything, Stan started to sink down, his whole body trembling as Richie’s cock slowly filled him, inch by inch. “Fuck,” Richie hissed as Stan’s tight heat started enveloping him. “Fuckfuckfuck - “

 

Stan was sliding down slowly, breathing heavily, thighs shaking from earlier but eventually he was seated fully on Richie’s cock, body trembling above Richie. Richie could feel himself twitching inside Stan, the instinct to just hold Stan’s hips and pound into his ass ringing loudly in his mind.

 

Still, Stan wanted to play his game. Stan didn’t want him to touch. So he kept his hands to his sides, clutching at the bedsheet, taking in deep ragged breaths. “God, Stan you’re _so_ fucking tight,” he groaned out, rocking his hips upwards just a little bit.

 

Stan moaned at the motion, his eyes rolling back. “Richie,” he gasped, pink mouth falling open. “You are too… fucking big,” he hissed, squirming a little on Richie’s cock. Despite the situation, Richie couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“You’ve never complained before,” he teased. Stan frowned, nose scrunching up cutely. He didn’t bother replying, leaning forward and placing his hands on Richie’s chest to brace himself.

 

“Shut up,” he muttered, slowly lifting his ass up and sliding back down, making Richie choke on a moan. Stan’s entire body shook as he started to ride Richie, careful slow movements at first, gasping loudly every time he sat back down. Soon enough, he started a steady rhythm, hands scrambling desperately on Richie’s skin, moaning wantonly every time Richie’s cock pressed deep inside him.

 

“Yes baby, fuck, _ride me_ ,” Richie groaned, captivated by the sight of Stan rocking his hips over him in fluid sensual motions. Stan had told him to shut up but there was no way he could, not when Stan looked this hot, fucking his ass on his dick, spread out over Richie so perfectly. It was almost worth not to be able to touch him to see how gorgeous Stan looked, moaning high and sweet with every swivel of his hips, Richie groaning in turn every time Stan clenched tightly around him. “You’re so damn hot, Stan, feel so fucking good.”

 

At one point, Stan straightened up, fully seated on Richie’s cock, Richie making an embarrassing noise at how amazing Stan felt completely wrapped around him. He squirmed a little, leaning his arms back on Richie’s legs to support his weight so that he could lift his hips at a quicker pace than before. It wasn’t long until Stan was properly bouncing on Richie’s cock, like a goddamn pornstar, wailing loudly with how good he felt, his dick bobbing along with his movements.

 

Richie’s head was spinning from pleasure. His body felt hot and heavy, the sound of Stan’s ass smacking down against his thighs filling his room loudly. Stan wasn’t able to string a single coherent sentence, obviously having found his prostate and was rutting down against Richie over and over, whimpering out little “yeahs” and “ohs” all the while. Richie wasn’t able to do anything but just stare slack-jawed at Stan’s lean body moving sinuously over him, the view too incredible for his brain to properly process.

 

Once the white noise faded a bit from his mind, Richie immediately noticed that Stan’s thighs were shaking from the effort of fucking himself, his chest heaving with exertion. Now was the perfect time for Richie to take over, grab Stan’s hips and slam him down on his cock the way he’d been itching to do. But when Richie reached out for him, Stan stopped moving, shaking his head furiously.

 

“Baby please,” Richie groaned, his hands flopping back to his sides. Stan shook his head, moving his hips in slow little circles. Alright, that was it. Richie was done playing it Stan’s way. He knew Stan was too tired to keep this up but was also too stubborn to give in when he’d been the one to establish the no touching rule.

 

But Richie knew Stan. He knew his body. He knew he wanted to be touched, from the way his body was shaking. He just needed… a little convincing.

 

Lucky for them both, Richie could be very convincing.

 

“You look good like this,” Richie grunted at him, voice rough with arousal. “You know that don’t you? Pretty as a picture, bouncing on my cock like it’s the only thing you wanna do.”

 

Stan fucking whined at that, rolling his hips down particularly hard making Richie shudder, closing his eyes at the way Stan clenched around him. Still, he continued, unrelenting. “You’re so pretty baby, pretty all the time but look the best like this.” Stan whimpered his name, probably a plea to stop, but Richie couldn’t, the filth dripping from his mouth freely. “If I could, I’d make you take it – ah fuck Stan – every damn day so I could see how pretty you are. Plug your sweet little hole and make you scream. Just for me.”

 

At this point, Stan wasn’t even riding him anymore, just weakly grinding on his cock, letting out soft little moans at Richie’s words. “You like the sound of that baby? Want me to fill you up every day? Be my messy boy?” Stan nodded frantically, his movements becoming sloppier, a sure sign that he was getting closer to the edge.

 

Richie wasn’t any better, his words were slurring together, his own resolve weakening with how flushed Stan was, how broken his cries were. “You wanna come baby?”

 

“Yeah,” Stan whined back at him, leaning forward, trying to fuck himself properly on Richie’s cock again. His bounces were slow and weak, too overwhelmed to move properly. “Yeah, shit, I wanna come, _I wanna come_ – “

 

At that, Richie finally thrusted upwards, the first time he’d done the entire time they were fucking. Stan shrieked, his back bending over Richie’s body. “Oh – _fuck_ – “

 

“Lemme make you come, Stanny,” Richie growled. “C’mon, be a good boy.”

 

Stan whimpered, clearly struggling between his desire to come and need to stay true to his principles. Richie rolled his hips against his, not in the mood to play anymore. “C’mon baby,” Richie groaned. “You feel so good, you did so well riding me like that, let me take care of you – “

 

Stan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, open-mouthed and panting, clearly overwhelmed by the sensation. “Richie,” he pleaded, hands scrambling for purchase over his chest. Richie caught his hands with his, squeezing tight, as he planted his feet on the mattress and started to fuck upwards into Stan. “Ohhhh, fuck _Richie_!” Stan screamed, throwing his head back.

 

“Tell me,” Richie groaned at him, keeping his strokes slow but hard, sinking all the way into Stan. “Tell me it’s what you want baby.”

 

Stan seemed at a loss for words, body jolting along with Richie’s rough movements. “Fine,” he finally sobbed. “God, fine. Just - _please_.”

 

Richie wasted no time, immediately latching on to Stan’s hips and sitting up. Stan moaned, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck as Richie tugged him closer. “Good boy,” he growled against Stan’s mouth before kissing him fiercely. Stan trembled in his arms, rocking his hips against Richie, desperate for more friction.

 

“Richie,” he gasped out, when Richie pulled away, littering his jaw and neck with heated kisses. “Richie, please.”

 

“Yeah,” Richie murmured against Stan’s skin, making sure to suck a noticeable hickey on the sensitive skin of Stan’s throat, making him cry out. He spread his legs further to give him better leverage, hands going down to grab Stan’s ass. Stan’s arms tightened around his neck as Richie lifted Stan up, all the way off Richie’s cock until only the tip was keeping him open. Then without warning, he slammed him back down, burying himself all the way in Stan’s tightness, Stan letting out a shrill scream.

 

“Good?” Richie asked hoarsely, mimicking how Stan had teased him earlier as he brought Stan down on his cock over and over. Stan’s face was euphoric, tears sliding down his cheeks, too overwhelmed to even reply.

 

“Guh,” he moaned back, trying to say it back but too lost in pleasure to try to form any words. Richie grinned sharply, kissing Stan’s heated cheek.

 

They continued like that for a while, Richie fucking up into him roughly, grunting animalistically against Stan’s shoulder while Stan’s moans got progressively higher and higher until he was just sobbing and shaking against Richie. His limbs were like jelly, taking every one of Richie’s hard thrusts with a weak roll of his hips. Richie lost himself in Stan, in his pretty little moans, in his ass fluttering around his cock, in the slick of his skin –

 

Stan let out a loud gasp at a particular hard thrust. “Again,” he begged brokenly, throwing his head back as Richie obliged. “ _Ohhhh_ , there! There, therethere -” Richie growled, digging his fingers so hard into Stan’s skin, he was sure there was going to be bruises. Angled his thrusts against Stan’s prostate, until Stan’s back arched and he screamed as he came without warning, his dick painting his skin white. Richie pulled him closer, felt his cum smeared in between their stomachs and continued to fuck Stan through his orgasm, making him feel every wave of it.

 

Stan had collapsed against him, head resting on Richie’s shoulder, moaning softly as Richie fucked into into his abused hole. He opened his mouth and bit at the skin, making Richie cry out loudly, thrusting up mindlessly, chasing his orgasm. “Gonna come in you baby, make you all messy - “ he groaned and Stan sobbed loudly, chanting back ‘ _yesyesyes make a mess, make me yours_ \- ‘

 

And that did it, Richie swearing loudly as he slammed into Stan one last time, emptying himself inside him. Stan’s twitching body flexed around him, taking every drop of his cum until his dick stopped pulsing. “Holy fuck,” Richie panted, falling backwards with his arms still wrapped around Stan, laying them both back down. Stan whined in response, rubbing his nose affectionately against Richie’s chest.

 

Richie started to stroke his hair again. “Good kitty, nice kitty,” he mumbled at him once he’d finally caught his breath, the glow of their orgasm slowly fading into the sticky reality. Stan groaned weakly, smacking at his chest.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“And why not? I just fucked your pus – “

 

“If you want cuddles, you better not finish that sentence,” Stan warned him.

 

Richie shut his mouth, wisely deciding not to mention how between the two of them, Stan was the clingiest after sex. He pressed a kiss to Stan’s forehead. “Do you feel better baby?”

 

“Mmm,” Stan curled into Richie’s arms. Richie’s dick was softening inside him, ready to slip out. Richie knew when they got up eventually, whenever that was, Stan would complain about the cum in his ass but he figured he could eat Stan out in the shower and shut him up that way. “…love you,” Stan muttered quietly.

 

Richie grinned, heart swelling with affection. “Always eager to please my dear.”

 

“You need to carry me to the shower. I think you destroyed my asshole.”

 

Richie snorted. “Well you _bit_ me.”

 

“Oh no,” Stan replied blandly. “A bite mark. Will you survive?”

 

“You’re talking way too much for someone who got their brains fucked out.”

 

Stan shrugged, looking haughty despite the fact that he indeed, still looked very fucked out. “Eh it was alright. Seven out of ten.”

 

“Seven?” Richie squawked, indignant. “Oh just you wait Uris, when little Dick is back up again, I’m gonna _ruin_ you.”

 

Stan yawned loudly. “Can I take a nap first?” he mumbled, dropping his head back onto Richie’s chest.

 

Richie rolled his eyes. “Our cum’s drying babe.”

 

“Nooooo.”

 

“Time to get up.”

 

_“Noooooooooo!”_

 

Richie’s arms were too shaky to properly carry Stan but his shorter boyfriend did cling to his shoulders as Richie stumbled to the bathroom. He made good on his earlier thought and propped Stan’s leg against the wall, eating him out under the hot spray of the water until Stan came around his tongue again. Then once they had the energy to drag themselves out of the shower, they laid down in the living room couch, only in underwear, to watch Sleepless in Seattle.

 

They fell asleep within the first five minutes, Stan curled up in Richie’s arms. Like the cat they weren’t allowed to have.

 

**Author's Note:**

> sets myself on fire.


End file.
